Page 23 of The Breath Before Forever

“Well, it is comfortable,” she said. “Warm, too.”

“Mmm.”

His noncommittal grunt pulled a tiny grin from the woman behind him in the mirror. He dared to grin back, and didn’t regret the choice when her lips split with a wider smile.

All those days of silence between them while he worked through how he felt about what she had done regarding his mother were for nothing when she smiled at him. The clouds in the sky could have parted with the rays and voice of God coming through, and it wouldn’t have made one single damn difference to Vaslav in that second.

It was sickening, really. Except he wouldn’t change a thing about it.

“I have a dress—grey, you saw it before. We could match.”

He knew which one she meant. Loose sleeves, body-contouring, and a treat to enjoy the sight of her wearing the sweater dress.

“I do have a grey sweater,” he admitted. “We can match without saying we are, yes?”

“Sure, if that’s what you need to get dressed and leave this house today.” Vera nodded. “I’ll wear the grey dress, and find your sweater?”

Setting the scissors next to the sink, Vaslav scrubbed a hand down his jaw, brushing away the stray hairs he’d soon rinse off.

“All of this,” he muttered, “for five minutes on the side of the street.”

The comment stopped Vera from turning away to leave the bathroom.

“Five minutes?” she asked. “I thought we were having dinner with my parents in the city before they fly out tonight?”

Actually, he’d told her they would see her parents—and Igor—around dinnertime at a restaurant in downtown Moscow, and spend the night in the city after. He hadn’t specified whether or not they would also join the meal but that was never in his plans.

After all, he’d made himself clear to Igor about their transition of power and how Vera could be used. If Igor wanted to initiate Vaslav’s retirement and flex his new control by starting with a mutually beneficial agreement with an American Bratva boss on the trade of a significant stock of weapons, then so be it. The fact that the American boss also happened to be Vera’s father presented a viable story to the rest of the organization that could be told without Vaslav needing to be a part of the conversation.

After all, he was trying to step away from said organization. He shouldn’t be a part of the conversation in any real way at all. Wasn’t that the point?

“Vas, what about dinner with my parents?” Vera asked again.

“Something came up,” he said.

It wasn’t a lie.

Not entirely.

Glancing over his shoulder, he found Vera still lingering in the doorway of the bathroom, not entirely ready to leave, it seemed. To be frank, he didn’t want her to go, either. Even a few days of time, space, and silence was a little much for him.

At least, when he wanted her. God knew he always wanted her.

“You’ll still get a chance to say your goodbyes,” Vaslav added.

Vera’s smile faded, but she nodded nonetheless. “Okay. So what else came up that’s so important?”

Oh, that?

Vaslav shrugged. “That’s a surprise.”

Vera did a double take of him as if she hadn’t heard him right the first time. “You got me ... a surprise?” she hedged. The barely contained curiosity in her voice also shone in her bright eyes. “The man who barely wanted to look at me all week—never mind touch me—has done something to surprise me?”

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

He didn’t know how to explain the way she’d twisted the word, saying surprise first like it was a good thing and then warping it the second time so that it was clear she understood he was being misleading. Vera was picking up on his tricks quicker than he expected her to.